


There's No Place Like Home

by DelilahBlueEyes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahBlueEyes/pseuds/DelilahBlueEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written during the 2013 Rumbelle Secret Santa for accio-firewhiskey. Prompt: Neal comes to town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Place Like Home

Neal held the scalloped-edge card in the hand not on the steering wheel, running a fingertip absently across the fleecy torn corner. It had come to him already damp with rain now it was wrinkled and creased from traveling around in his coat pocket with the cell phone he’d bought to replace the one that fell out his apartment window. He knew the exact shape and content of the little postcard, had stared at the kitschy little illustration of the clock tower and the sunny yellow and white words, GREETINGS FROM STORYBROOKE MAINE. He was nervous. If he was honest with himself, he’d started to feel the flutter of anxiety in the put of his stomach as far back as Vermont, maybe even before he’d made it out of New York. He’d had no idea what to expect when the Storybrooke welcome sign had faded into the greenery in his rear-view mirror and the buildings of the town had started to draw nearer. The postcard had brought to mind perfect little shoebox houses, perfectly manicured lawn and quaint little tourist trap shops. While the reality was not quite so picturesque, Neal found himself charmed all the same. It was perhaps a bit larger than he’d thought, a few hours walk across the residential part of the town, with a band of wild forest a few miles wide secluding the town from the outside world, leaving it in a quiet little pocket of forgotten space and time.

He slowed his strange smelling Dodge Charger as he reached the main street of the town, his eyes taking in everything around him that he could in an unconscious effort to both delay actually seeing anything important and find a glimpse of sunny blonde hair. The streets were perhaps a bit busier than he could expect for a lazy Sunday afternoon and as more and more heads turned his way he began to regret choosing the cool model of car instead of any of the ones that weren’t a painfully bright shade of blue. Finally drawing so much attention that he felt the need to hide, he pulled his car into a parallel spot just outside a small, discreet diner set away from the street behind a cozy little arbor and a large amount of lushly green plants. It may not have been a productive addition to his trip, but he hadn’t eaten since that morning and only then a few nibbles of toast and a grainy cup of coffee at the hotels ghastly continental breakfast. Somehow the thought of being tucked away in this tiny, unassuming diner and earning that much more time to steel himself against the shock of seeing— Emma.

He’d only managed to step inside, catch the gaze of a bored-looking tall brunette girl behind the counter and open his mouth to ask for a booth in the back corner when a multitude of raised voices drew his attention. Of course. Of course he couldn’t escape doing this when he was least prepared. At a booth just ten feet away from where he stood in the doorway sat three people, laughing and talking animatedly. The booth to either side of theirs was full to spilling over with short, rowdy men seeming intent on drinking each other under their respective tables. Facing him and the first to see him frozen in the middle of reaching nervously into his pocket again to worry his little postcard was a couple, a petite, raven haired woman and a tall proud looking man. Eventually the half of the restaurant facing the entrance quieted as they noticed him one-by-one. The couple’s demeanor changed in a moment and the woman leaned forward to alert the last occupant of the booth to his presence. Even knowing he couldn’t actually hear the whispered word, he could have recognized the two syllables that passed her lips in the middle of a blizzard. It’d been the word at the tip of his own tongue for the past eleven years. She turned to face him and his heart squeezed so hard behind his ribs that he thought he might be having a heart attack.

She looked… Different. Her hair was loosely curled around her shoulders, she wore a red leather jacket and skinny jeans, both of which looked as though they could use a wash and she was limping slightly as she took a hesitant step closer to him. Her eyes though. Her eyes and her face were the exact same as they’d always been, though never so shocked as now when she looked at him like he was returned from the dead. He smiled back at her, his arms twitching out from his sides in an unconscious gesture to initiate a hug when she finally came close enough to reach. The sound of bone smacking flesh rang through his skull before he felt the impact.

“Jesus, Emma! What the hell?!” He reeled back and knocked over a tall coatrack standing innocuously beside the door, catching himself on the edge of the doorframe. A large, furry hat smelling of wood smoke and sweat flopped down over his face and as he tried to right himself and tear it away he heard gasps and a few exclamations of disapproval that were almost lost among the cheering from the large group of men.

“Emma! What are you doing?”

When he managed to wrench the large, fluffy hat away from his eyes he saw Emma standing where she had stopped to punch him, breathing hard. The small black haired woman was standing beside the bench she’d been sitting in, looking ready to break up a fight if it developed. The man had his hand wrapped firmly around her forearm, gently preventing her from advancing but the look on his face said he’d be the first to leap into action if he’d tried to return the hit.

“How did you find us?” Emma hissed, leaning toward him with her hands clenched into fists by her sides. “How the hell did you find us?”

He dropped the hat onto the salt-crusted floor and moved forward slowly, one hand probing his tender face while the other lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Man, you always did swing for the fences, didn’t you? I think I might have swallowed a couple of teeth.” He couldn’t entirely hide the pride in his words even as he wished she wasn’t quite so thorough in everything she did.

“Tell me, Neal. How did you—How did you even know this place existed?” Her voice was near hysteria now and he noticed small frown lines framing her mouth. He wanted to kiss them away.

“It was August.”

The pure shock on her face was expected, the instant belief less so. Her posture relaxed very slightly, though she still seemed ready to deck him again. “I don’t understand.”

“The night we were gonna run away to Tallahassee, he pretty much ground my face into the pavement after we split up and told me I had to leave you; that you had bigger and better things to do than ‘robbing convenience stores with some deadbeat’. He told me you had to break a curse and that I was holding you back.”

“And what, you just believed him? You just let some lunatic convince you to abandon me and set me up to take the fall for your stupid watch heist?” The diner had gone completely silent the moment they’d started talking, everyone having turned to shamelessly watch their confrontation progress. Even the cook (and presumably Granny herself) had stepped around from the kitchen and was watching intently.

“No, of course not. But he showed me something, Emma. He had this wooden box on the back of his bike and he showed me what he had inside….. I can’t…. I couldn’t not believe him after what he showed me. So I left and met up with him a few days later. He wouldn’t tell me where you’d been sent except that you were in a prison in Arizona. I made him swear to watch out for you and left you a whole lot of money and the bug. I guess only the car got to you. He did say he had a problem resisting temptation.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” she muttered, finally having relaxed enough to cross her arms across her chest in silent disapproval rather than a silent threat. Progress. “But how did you find us? How did you know to come to Storybrooke?”

Something about what she said struck Neal as odd. “I—A pigeon left a postcard on my windowsill. August said he’d send me word when the curse broke and I could come find you again.” Again she looked surprised beyond what he might have expected but he was still distracted by something she’d said a few times now. “Hey, why do you keep saying us?”

“What?” Her attention had turned inward for a moment but flew back to him immediately. She looked nervous now, the same hint of an edge of desperation to in her voice.

“Just now. You said us. ‘How did you find us?’ Not me. Why do you keep saying us, Emma?”

Just as she tensed up again and seemed about to refuse to answer, something at the booth caught his attention, a fourth person that he’d overlooked originally in his awe at seeing Emma again. A young boy about ten or eleven years old with brown hair and hazel eyes. A boy looking at him with a face very similar to the one he’d seen in the mirror every day when he was a younger. And if the physical evidence wasn’t enough, as they stared at each other, the boy opened his mouth and uttered the one word that was proof enough.

“Mom?”

It was everything he needed to hear. He tried to keep the expression on his face from the insane almost grimace it wanted to slip into as he made to step around his ex-lover who matched him and held up a forbidding hand.

“Is he…?” He couldn’t finish the question but she understood and the look on her face was his answer. “Emma, please. I just want to meet him. Please let me meet him.”

He could see the struggle play out on her features, the doubt about letting him close to their son and the exact moment she decided to allow it and stepped aside. He moved across the diner feeling he was floating and hesitantly crouched down beside the end of the bench the boy was sitting on, having slid to the end when his mother began beating a stranger. The boy looked at him warily but without an ounce of fear. That was good.

“Hey, kid.” Perhaps not the most eloquent or enlightening first words between a father and son, but it was a start. “I’m Neal.”

“Henry,” he responded, holding out a small hand to shake with a small smile.

“Well it is very nice to meet you, Henry.” Neal took the offered hand in his and felt his smile broaden until it made his face ache, trying to match the swelling feeling inside him. When the handshake broke he settled one arm on the tabletop and the other hand dangled over his knee. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say to this wonderful, brave boy and so just crouched and tried to memorize every detail of his face while he could. Any minute now Emma would probably boot him out and he’d make the best of these few moments.

“So you’re my dad?” Henry asked, the first sign of nerves showing through his mask of calm, his eyes flicking over Neal’s shoulder to find Emma who seemed too tense and unsettled to give any indication.

“Uh, yeah,” he confirmed, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. “Sorry I’m not more impressive.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than he found himself almost toppled over backwards with an armful of Henry. He steadied himself on the edge of the table, too stunned to do more than stay upright and accept the embrace until one of the men at the booth he faced demonstrated what he should do with his less than impressed tablemate. While it was a short hug, it was so much more than he’d ever expected. Henry pulled away with a big grin on his face and asked if he’d like to have lunch with them. A chair had been pulled up for him and another burger ordered before anyone other than Henry had had a chance to react to the question.

“I’m… not sure that’s a great idea, kid.” Neal turned to find Emma looking a bit lost as she approached, slightly hunched as she stood before him and sighed. He waited to hear her decision as neutrally as he could, knowing that she had every right to send him away but hoping against hope that she wouldn’t.

“I really wanted to be mad at you, you know.” She managed a half smile when he chuckled. “I was really looking forward to being mad.”

“Well,” he took the risk of touching her to run one knuckle down the sleeve of her jacket. “You can still be angry. I’ll understand.”

“No, you were trying to help me. I get it. Even if you went about it in the worst way possible.” She gave him a stern but smiling look as she returned to her seat and he dropped into the chair set at the end of the table with a sheepish grin.

“I’ll second that.” The couple across the table had settled back into their seats and were watching him closely, the woman’s expression of suspicion clashing with the man’s sharp displeasure.

“I’m sorry. Who are you exactly?”

“These are my parents,” Emma interrupted as the man opened his mouth to answer. “Neal Cassidy, meet my mother and father.”

“Well, hell! It’s nice to—“

“Snow White and Prince Charming.”

“I don’t—uh….” Neal had no idea what to say to that and instead looked to Henry for a sane explanation, finding that the boy only shrugged and set back to eating his lunch with the voracity that only a growing boy is able to accomplish.

“Neal?” Emma tapped the back of his hand to get his attention. “Just remember the box.”

And he did. “Well, I’m very glad to meet you both. I’m actually a big fan, although I must say that having seen the movie I expected you to be much prettier.” He shook Snow’s hand when he spoke but his eyes were on Charming, who seemed not at all charmed by his apparent wit.

“So, tell me what you’ve been up to in the past ten years. Tell me everything you’ve been up to.”

So it was going to be one of those lunches.

They’d been sitting together talking and eating for close to an hour by the time the first big disaster hit. Neal had made progress with Snow and Emma but Charming remained firm in his dislike. Well, you couldn’t win them all.

“Um, uh, sheriff?”

“Yes?

“Yeah?” Emma and her dad exchanged a look before turning back to the timid looking ginger-haired man clutching an umbrella in the open doorway. Out of the corner of his eye, Neal saw the girl behind the counter push herself up straight and give a flirtatious little wave. “What’s up, Archie?”

“Um, well,” he paused to fidget with his glasses while flicking a quick wave in the direction of the waitress who smiled as he flushed beet red. “Yes, well, there is a ship down in the harbor. An actual ship, like from our world.”

“What?” Emma shrilled. The mood around Neal shattered and everyone tensed up. Snow and Emma leaned forward across the table to meet in the middle. “That’s not possible… Is it?”

“No. At least I don’t think so.” Snow sounded far from sure and it did little to assure anyone listening. “There are only two people we can go to who might know.”

Emma stood and turned to address the diner at large. “Everyone get home and get ready for a potential problem. Spread the word to get off the streets and wait until the all clear comes. We’ll ring the bell in the clock tower four times.”

“Right. Okay. I’ll go tell… people.” He was out the door and gone before he could catch another glimpse of the waitress biting her lip at him.

“What are we doing?” Snow stood and stepped away from the table to make room for Charming.

“We’re going to see Gold and find out what he knows about this. He usually has something to do with any big scale issues that pop up around here. Come on.”

Henry slipped quickly out of the booth to follow his mother and grandparents as they all strode toward the door only to stumble into his grandfather’s back when the procession was abruptly halted. Neal had remained sitting at the now empty table, staring down at his half eaten burger and congealing fries.

“Neal.” Emma snatched up his hand and tugged at it until he stood with her. “Let’s go.”

“You want me to come with you?” Try as he might not to let it, the hope he felt shone clearly through his eyes and her face softened momentarily in response.

“Unless you’re planning to disappear again.”

“Oh, good luck getting rid of me this time. I’m staying for as long as you’ll have me around.”

Emma’s only response was to haul him against her and kiss him. Charming and Henry made almost identical noises of distaste.

“Oh, please don’t be those parents.” Henry pleaded from behind his hands. “Anyone but those parents.”

“Sorry, kid. We haven’t been able to be those parents in a very long time.”

“As heartwarming as this really is, can we go deal with the almost eminent threat of attack now? Ow!” Charming received an elbow to the ribs from his wife for his comment and subsided into surly silence as they all hurried down to the end of the main street and around the corner to the pawnshop.

“Rum, where did you move that lovely oriental jewelry box? I was going to polish—Oh, hello!”

A petite brunette woman dressed in a pink vintage swing dress turned to smile at them when the bell over the door rang at their entrance. She dusted off her hands and moved to stand beside the end of the glass-top counter.

“Rum, there are some people here to see you.”

“Thank you, dear. I’ll be right there.” A shadowy figure moved in front of the dim beam of light that slanted in through the back door window of the shop and something in Neal’s memory stirred. Something about that voice seemed familiar.

“Rumpelstiltskin, we need to talk to you.” Snow demanded.

Oh, god. He might throw up.

The woman at the counter frowned slightly and glanced nervously at the curtain partially obscuring the workshop portion of the small, cluttered shop. A sigh issued from the darkness only moments before the man himself did. He was dressed impeccably in a black suit with matching tie and a dark as night purple shirt. His head was bowed as he limped forward and his sleek hair mostly hid his face. Neal’s breath escaped him and it suddenly felt as though his heart had stopped cold in his chest and refused to begin beating again.

“Could you hold these two pieces together just like that while I assist the sheriff and her family?” The woman nodded and murmured a quiet yes. Mr. Gold—Rumpelstiltskin smiled warmly. “Thank you, dear. Now how can I help you, Ms. Swan? I would have thought you’d liked to have rested for a few days at least before continuing your crusade to right all that is wrong with our small town.” His eyes paused shortly on Neal and narrowed in thought when he wasn’t immediately familiar before moving on to focus on Emma.

“I am hardly on a crusade, and I would love to rest if everything would just settle down and let me.”

“Well, I see no burning buildings or citizens in distress to keep you from your bed and cocoa. What seems to be the matter, Ms. Swan?”

Neal (no, that wasn’t right) felt as if he were watching everything around him through a pair of the drunk goggles he’d had to try on in high school. It was hard to breathe and a high-pitched whining had picked up in his head that made it impossible to stand still. He settled a hand on the nearest steady object, which happened to be Henry, who promptly turned to give him a concerned look.

“Archie just came into the diner while we were having lunch to tell us what he saw on his walk.”

Mr. Gold lifted his thin shoulders in a gesture that suggested that he wouldn’t know what that was.

“He told us that down in the harbor there’s—“

“P-papa?” Neal gasped.

Everyone turned to stare at him in shock but the only person that mattered had hurried to stumble around the end of the counter and move toward him. The woman followed a few paces behind like a shadow but this man, his father, had no more attention for her than Neal himself did. When they met in the middle of the room he lifted his arms to brace his father. Neither of them said a word as Rumpelstiltskin lifted his hands to frame his son’s face and give him a quivering smile that shook all the more for the fact that he could hardly see him through the haze of tears that sprung to his eyes.

“Bae? Is- is that really you?” That was the father he remembered. Quiet, kind, hesitant.

He nodded and half laughed, half sobbed when he was immediately pulled into a tight hug, looking over his father’s shoulder at the small woman who was crying as well, both hands pressed over her mouth but her eyes shining with a smile. He didn’t think he could have been any happier in the moment.

“I swear, if I get any more family today I’m gonna lose track of all of you.” Henry’s exasperation broke through the tears of both men and they pulled apart, both laughing far too loudly.

“I don’t have any idea what’s going on right now, but we did come here for a reason.” Emma interjected. When they both gave her the same blank look she gestured, frustrated. “The ship! In the harbor!”

Neal watched a wave of exhaustion wash over the same familiar, pointed features he’d never forgotten before Rumpelstiltskin’s head dropped with a very heavy sigh.

“A ship. Yes, of course there’s a ship. Of course there is.” When he looked back up, Bae could recognize the same determined, almost mad glint in his eye. Except that now it was tempered with a level of humanity he could hardly associate with the man he remembered. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to talk later about all of the less important things but right now…. Belle?”

“Yes, Rum?” And finally it made sense. Who this lovely woman was and why she was a mess of tears just feet away from them when the family still milling round the door was merely confused. He loved her. And judging by the way she brushed the tears away from her skin and clasped her hands under her chin when he beckoned her forward, she loved him too.

“I’d like you to meet my son…”


End file.
